


In the Shadow of Peacocks

by Tikini



Series: Four men and a Rock and Roll band [7]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blow Jobs, Dirty Dancing, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Fluff, Grinding, John is sad and mad, Kissing, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Smut, Spanking, Unsafe Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 02:50:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18562414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tikini/pseuds/Tikini
Summary: He had been excited for tonight, to get to drink and dance with Freddie and Roger. Only he couldn’t. He could never be one of them like this, the life of the party, the light that drew people in. He was much better at dancing than the two of them, but that didn’t even fucking matter. He didn’t have the charisma, the charm, the looks, to keep up. He was just standing in the middle of the floor, watching together with a bunch of drooling strangers how two of his boyfriends were having almost sex.----Or; John battles his worst enemy, Freddie is drunk and cute, Roger is happy then not and Brian is an absolute sweetheart





	1. Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS. You are absolutely lovely. I adore you so much. In the end of my last story, I get religion quick, 'cause you're looking divine, I asked you if you'd be interested in more dom/sub dynamics and if you had any kinks you'd like to see. I had honestly expected a shy "...bondage?" if I was lucky but jesus christ, you surprised me. Bondage, more dom/sub, rimming, fisting, gang bangs, more voyeurism and overstimulation, etc... With your great suggestions I now probably have enough smut ideas to keep writing until the sun burns out of the sky. Two things you really seem to want to see is rough sex/gang bang with Freddie getting wrecked and Roger being made to come until he can't. You're filthy and I love you. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on what you like to read) I also want to try to write other things that's not just kinks. This story for example, won't really go much into any kink (expect for what's already been included in the series this far). Sorry about that :/
> 
> Long ago, in a comment on my first story, A study in Jealousy, an anon reader asked if I could write some more insecure John feeling like he's not good enough, and his bfs comforting him. I'm not sure if you're reading this honey, but if you do, I hope you enjoy it Franny! 
> 
> I've seen many fics and headcanons about John feeling bad and insecure, and I kind of wanted to try to do it a bit differently. John isn't only sad and miserable in this, he's also angry, unfair and a bit mean (as you often get when you're feeling like shit, at least me). I felt that writing him like this felt more realistic, I hope you will think it's alright. This story will be two parts, the second is almost finished so I can probably have it up in about 1-2 days. The second part is also much longer (wow surprise, I couldn't write short smut scenes if my life depended on it). This story takes place quite shortly after I get religion quick, 'cause you're looking divine so they're still a bit new and stumbling in this whole relationship, foursome and kink business.
> 
> Take care lovelies, and see you real soon <3

John had started out in a great mood. The show had gone phenomenal, as usually was the case these days. He’d felt sure and safe as a rock on his bass, even during the really fast, complicated parts. And he’d felt comfortable enough to start to show off, flirt a bit with Freddie and shake his hips slightly to the beat. It finally felt like he might actually be worthy of this. Of being the fourth. Of making the other three come together and reach the stars.

They’d loaded their things in the truck afterwards, wiped the worst of the sweat off and then headed to a bustling club that their frontman had wanted to visit for ages. Before going inside they’d had a makeover in the back of the van. Brian opted to stay in his regular clothes, since he was on van duty and wasn’t going to drink much. He was also going to meet some old friends at this club and didn’t want to look like a “gay peacock” as he ironically described it. Freddie had been annoyed with this. Their dress code was a constant source of clashing between their singer and guitarist.

John usually agreed with Brian in these cases, he didn’t have the confidence to dress up like Freddie and Roger did. Tonight however, he’d promised the other two and after the great show he actually felt excited about it. In the end John ended up with jeans short shorts and a green loose tank top. He had multiple bracelets over his arms and Freddie had lined his eyes in kohl, making the green of them “pop” according to the older man. Freddie and Roger matched him, both in short shorts (although Freddie chose his favourite leather ones and not jeans) and in loose tank tops, red for Freddie and blue for Roger. They also had the bracelets and the lined eyes.

Freddie looked exotic - dark, passionate and gorgeous while Roger was beautifully angelic. They were perfect opposites. John wasn’t as striking, he guessed he was somewhere in between, but the outfit really did fit him. All his boyfriends, even Brian, were very obvious with how good they thought he looked. So, while he couldn’t dare to compete with Freddie and Roger, he didn’t feel too shabby. It wasn’t often John Deacon felt pretty, it wasn’t that often he _cared_ about feeling pretty, but tonight was one of those nights.

And so, Brian gave them each a kiss on the cheek and a smile, before venturing over to join his friends by a table in a far corner of the club. John, Roger and Freddie went to the bar and ordered drinks, excitedly looking out over the flashing, crowded dance floor.

“Darlings! I’m really in the mood to get drunk and shake my fucking tush!” Freddie loudly exclaimed over the music and grinned at the other two.

Roger laughed and bumped his hip against John’s. “Aren’t you always?” He teased then winked at the blushing bartender when he handed them their drinks.

John looked on for a moment as the other two teased each other, while drinking his beer. The music was loud and there was so much people here. He really wanted to dance too, but needed to calm his nerves some before that.

“Ah excuse me!” Came a shrill voice right behind him. He turned, along with Freddie and Roger, to face a group of young, nervous girls. “Sorry, but are you the band Queen?”

“That’s us my lady,” Freddie smiled at her and did a ridiculous bow, making the girls giggle happily. Roger leant back against the bar beside John and gave them his best million dollar grin.

“Oh my god!” The girl at the front looked close to passing out. “I can’t believe it, we saw you earlier and you’re so fucking good!”

Another of the girls took a step forward, nodding excitedly. “You’re Freddie right?” She asked the singer, who bowed again. “And you’re Roger!” Her cheeks heated up as she glanced at Roger, doing a not so discreet scan of the blonde. John, also not discreet, rolled his eyes.

“Yup,” Roger took a sip of his drink and winked again, making the girls squeal. When they didn’t say anything else he cleared his throat awkwardly and threw an arm over John’s shoulders. “And this is our brilliant bassist, Deaky!”

“Ah,” the girls smiled at John, looking a bit lost. “Of course, Deaky!”

They didn’t recognize him. Or they just didn’t give a fuck. John managed a half polite smile back when Roger nudged him and then finished his beer, quickly ordering another one.

He really shouldn’t be surprised by now, he thought wryly as the girls chatted happily with Freddie and Roger. It didn’t matter if he played his best, he was still in the background. Of course the fans would pay more attention to Freddie. And Roger. Who was barely visible in the back behind his drum kit. Whatever.

The girls eventually left but another group of people took their spot. These people didn’t even know who they were, but still flocked to Freddie and Roger like moths to a flame. His two boyfriends seemed to enjoy their company, joking and laughing with them as they got more and more inebriated. John didn’t care about these people one bit and they didn’t care about him. He stood between Freddie and Roger, in the middle of the action, with Freddie’s arm around his waist, but it didn’t matter. He was soon entirely forgotten.

It was a relief when the group started tugging Freddie and Roger towards the dance floor. His boyfriends only resisted a quick moment to make sure he didn’t want to come. “But you love dancing Deaks!” Roger had pouted, a pretty frown between his eyebrows, but when John had told him he’d join them later, the drummer had smiled and kissed his cheek before following Freddie and the others to the middle of the sweaty crowd.

John’s great mood was gone. He shouldn’t have agreed on dressing up and hanging with Freddie and Roger in one of these places, where they were in their element and he just was. He bought a third beer and headed to Brian’s table. At least his third boyfriend wouldn’t ignore him in favour of flirting and joking with other people. Brian looked up when he arrived, giving him a wide, if a bit confused smile, and scooted in a bit so John could fit next to him on the bench.

“Hi Deaky,” he greeted, squeezing John’s thigh briefly beneath the table. “I thought you were going to party with Rog and Fred?”

John let himself relax against Brian’s side and shook his head. “Maybe later.”

Brian frowned but didn’t ask anything else, instead he introduced John to his group of friends. They were nice enough, John guessed, apparently from Brian’s time at university. So he tried, tried smiling and paying attention, and answered politely when he was asked a question.

The table was as far away from the dance floor as possible, but the music was still loud and it was hard to hear what everyone were saying. Besides, he was tipsy and the beat was resonating through his body. He was soon bored with trying to chat with Brian’s friends, they were probably lovely but right now they just seemed dull. He wanted movement, he wanted the beat and the flashing lights. He decided to head to the dance floor after all.

He told Brian this, who looked confused again and nodded, sending him off with a wave and a grin. John resolutely headed over to the dance floor. Fuck what everyone thought. Fuck everyone who didn’t know his name. He was John Deacon, bassist of Queen, and he was here to party.

Finding Freddie and Roger in the throngs of people would probably have been easy, just find the busiest, loudest part of the crowd and they’d be right there in the middle of it, he was sure. Instead John headed to the outer parts of the floor. There was still a lot of people there, but not as crowded and he could dance without being squeezed between strangers.

John took a deep breath, closed his eyes and felt the music. He felt the beat pounding through his body, becoming one with his heart beat. This he knew. Rhythm was his world, was where he excelled, where he belonged. Without opening his eyes he moved his body, arms, head and legs moving fluently while he never lost the beat. He was good.

He was lost in it for awhile, enjoying the pumping of the music, the rush of his blood and the sweat running down his face. When he opened his eyes there was a guy dancing right in front of him. He grinned sheepishly and waved when John looked at him. John smiled back, not stopping his movements and the guy said something to him. John couldn’t hear him and shrugged, dancing a bit closer. The other boy just shook his head with a laugh, gave him a thumbs up and matched John’s rhythm.

The boy was probably around John’s age, he was pretty cute and was staring at John in awe. John felt powerful, he felt sexy. Of course he wasn’t interested in doing something with this boy, he wasn’t stupid, but it felt good to be appreciated for the first time this night. He grinned and danced with the boy, excited when the other tried to follow his lead.

Then his dancing partner’s eyes widened at something behind John, mouth falling slightly open. John didn’t even have to turn. He knew what had caught the boy’s eyes.

Roger popped up next to John, hair a mess and cheeks flushed. He said something inaudible and beamed at John, the radiance of his smile blinding. The blonde’d had more to drink since John last saw him, he was drunk and happy and so beautiful it hurt. His tank top was half falling off one slim shoulder and he was sweaty all over. He looked fucked and it both made John want to punch him in his perfect teeth and bend him over in the middle of the floor.

The poor boy John had been dancing with couldn’t stop staring and Roger soon noticed. The drummer waved at him and then happily danced over to shout something in his ear. At the same time slender fingers crept up John’s sides and Freddie saucily pressed himself to his back.

“Deaky darrrrrling!” John could more feel the vibrations of the older man’s purr than hear him. Freddie came around to face him and if Roger was drunk then Freddie was proper wasted. His eyeliner was smudged, strands of ebony hair were falling all over his face, his lips were red and he’d lost his shirt somewhere. He was absolutely gorgeous and John felt his dick twitch in his tight shorts when Freddie grinned and grinded dirtily against John’s hip. He put his hands awkwardly on Freddie’s hips and tried to move with him, tried to find the rhythm he’d lost. Tried to feel in his element.

In front of him his prior dance partner looked like he couldn’t believe his luck as Roger danced with him. It was not even remotely sexy, the blonde was just fooling around and being ridiculous and still John could see how the guy’s eyes darkened and followed every movement, every twitch of his boyfriend’s body. It should have made him feel jealous but instead he was just angry. Angry because he had been dancing much better and sexier than what Roger was doing and the boy hadn’t looked at him like that.

At first Freddie didn’t seem to care that he wasn’t exactly getting any real response from John, squirming all over John’s front as he threw his head back and bucked his hips. He looked like he was having sex and someone whistled. Freddie straightened up and laughed, blowing kisses to everyone around them. Because suddenly people were crowding John on all sides. They had apparently followed his boyfriends and now John was in the middle of this shit again. And he couldn’t even find the motivation to dance.

When Freddie still couldn’t get him to dance with him after several attempts he pouted at John and promptly tugged Roger over from between two girls. John’s prior dance partner was gone, John bitterly assumed he’d escaped to the bathroom to wank off. Freddie and Roger laughed together as the singer spun the blonde around until he was almost crashing to the floor. Freddie then wrapped his arms around Roger’s middle from behind, pulling him against his chest, hands running teasingly over the drummer’s hips and upper thighs.

John couldn’t hear it but he saw how Roger groaned and rested his head back against Freddie’s shoulder, one of his own hands reaching up to tangle in the singer’s hair, messing it up even more. His hips moved fluently back into Freddie’s grinds and John was hard in his shorts.

He was hard and he didn’t give a fuck about that. He was so angry. So disappointed. He had been excited for tonight, to get to drink and dance with Freddie and Roger. Only he couldn’t. He could never be one of them like this, the life of the party, the light that drew people in. He was much better at dancing than the two of them, but that didn’t even fucking matter. He didn’t have the charisma, the charm, the looks, to keep up. He was just standing in the middle of the floor, watching together with a bunch of drooling strangers how two of his boyfriends were having almost sex.

Roger’s eyes locked onto his, his gaze piercing despite his heavy lids. He smiled and reached a hand out, beckoning John closer. John was not sure what his expression looked like, but it couldn’t have been good, because Roger frowned, stopped the swirling of his hips and lifted his head from Freddie’s shoulder. He was on his way to pull away and come over to John but Freddie’s roaming hands choose that moment to dive up beneath his shirt to play with his nipples. Roger’s eyes rolled back, there were more whistles and John turned on his heel, quickly making his way away from the dance floor.

He found Brian still sitting with his friends and walked up to him. “Sorry Bri, I’m not feeling very well, can we go home?”

“What’s wrong?” Brian frowned, immediately rising from the table to look at John closely, trying to study his face in the dim light.

“Migraine,” John lied easily. “Sorry, I know you’re hanging out with your friends.”  
Brian shook his head and started grabbing his things. “They were about to head out anyway.” He exchanged pleasantries with his friends and then put a supporting hand on John’s shoulder. “Are Fred and Rog coming?”

“No, they’re still dancing.” John muttered bitterly.

Brian threw a worried glance towards the writhing bodies and pounding music as they headed towards the entrance. “Are they okay? Will they be able to get home alright?”

“They’re fine. They wanted to stay for awhile.” John shouldered open the door, stepping into the chilly air. He pictured Freddie’s bright flush and hazy eyes in his mind and grimaced. The older man was clearly quite drunk. Maybe they should pick him up… Then he remembered the giggling girls, the loud strangers, his cute dance partner, all staring at Freddie and Roger like they were gods on this earth. While John was nobody, a shadow. Air.

Whatever. John kicked at a can on the pavement and walked briskly towards the van, Brian hurrying after him. Roger could make himself useful for once and get himself and Freddie home. John had had enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next part will be up shortly! I hope you enjoyed it, please let me know your thoughts :D
> 
> I tried a new beer the other day, it was called Feverishly hot blonde (ale). I couldn't stop thinking about Roger and had myself a blast, secretly ofc. Might have to name an upcoming story after that ale...
> 
> Take care lovelies, stay awesome and safe <3


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the next part! Get ready for some feelings. 
> 
> I'm glad that you seem to enjoy my take on insecure John, where he's a bit of a mean bitch. As usual, looong smut ahead. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy <3

They got back to the apartment and Brian immediately cradled John’s face in his large palms, looking him over worriedly. “How’s your headache?”

Sweet, beautiful, gullible Brian. John smiled at him and pulled away. “It’s fine.” He headed into the kitchen and started going through their cupboards. “Where’s that wine we bought yesterday?”

“You should have some water and go to bed Deaks, not drink.” Brian chided, leaning his gangly body against the wall.

“Fuck should, I want some wine.” He found the bottles and grabbed one, reaching for the opener before Brian snatched it away.

His boyfriend’s eyebrows were furrowed as he looked down on John. “What’s up with you? You’re acting weird.” John shrugged and reached for the opener again, only to be pushed away. Brian’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t have a migraine, do you?”

Maybe not so gullible Brian after all. John scoffed and shook his head, managing to take the bloody opener from his taller boyfriend on the third try.

“Then why? What’s going on?” Brian looked lost as John started chugging wine directly from the bottle. “Did you have a fight with the others?”

The wine tasted cheap and unsatisfying as it trickled down John’s throat and he sighed, pulling the bottle away from his lips. “Don’t you ever just get tired?”

“Tired? Of what?”

John leant back against the kitchen bench tiredly. “Of being with them, Freddie and Roger.”

Brian’s jaw dropped and he looked horrified, hazel eyes turning shiny.

“Oh no,” John swore inwardly, him and his clumsy mouth. “I don’t mean like that, I don’t want to break up Brian, Jesus. Calm down.”

His boyfriend took a deep, relieved breath at that and tilted his head questioningly. “Then what do you mean?”

“I was ignored this entire bloody night.”

“What?” Brian frowned. “By Fred and Rog?”

John laughed bitterly. “No, they had a good time and tried to include me. It’s not even their fault, that’s what really sucks.”

“I’m sorry love, but you’ve completely lost me. What happened?”

The flood gates opened. “Everyone just talks to them and sees them. Everywhere they go. And I can’t be part of that. No one saw me, no one cared about _me_. I felt like I had a chance tonight, matching outfit and all, to at least be somewhat on the same stage but fuck no, I’m so bloody stupid. Why would anyone care.” He took a shaky breath. “I had a good time for a moment, dancing with this guy, just for fun, nothing dirty. And I felt like I was worth something, he looked at me and cared. And then Rog showed up and the guy was completely lovestruck and forgot all about me.”

“Roger… flirted with and stole your dance partner?” Brian looked annoyed. “I’m sorry Deaky, it’s just his personality, he doesn’t mean anything by it. But he still shouldn’t ruin things for you like that. Or flirt with strangers at all... I’ll talk to him.”

John was so frustrated that his teeth were grinding against each other. “No he didn’t even fucking flirt, he just existed! That’s the bloody problem! Roger is the most beautiful man in this city, country, world maybe hell if I know. And Freddie is the most charming, magnetizing, extraordinary guy anyone’s ever met, and he’s also fucking gorgeous!” He was almost yelling by now, hot all over and eyes itching. “How the fuck am I supposed to compete with that? I just…” His voice broke. “I just feel so damn worthless.”

Long, thin arms wrapped around him and he was pulled against Brian’s chest, the older man holding him tight. “Don’t say that love, please stop.”

“And you Bri, you’re just as unfair.” John whispered into Brian’s neck, clutching at his shirt. “Sometimes I think that we’re more alike, me and you, that we’re the “ordinary” ones. Because you’re not making a spectacle out of yourself. But you’re not. Ordinary. You’re a genius. The most ridiculously intelligent person I’ve met. And you chose to spend your time in a bloody rock band. You could have been anything, anyone.” Angry tears were dripping down his cheeks, wetting Brian’s collar. “And you’re kind and stunning and so… damn tall.”

Brian snorted at that, arms tightening around John. “Well I guess you’re right about the tall part at least. Come on love,” he sighed, hands rubbing calming circles over John’s back. “It’s always easy to see the great things about the people you love, loving, no even liking yourself is always harder. I certainly don’t think of myself as a kind, stunning, intelligent genius who could have anything. I think of myself as an awkward, nervous, complicated, gangly mess of a person who for some reason have been included in a group of the best guys I know.”

John sniffed pathetically into Brian’s shoulder and the guitarist chuckled softly. “I wish, Freddie and Rog do too, that you could see yourself the way we see you. You’re amazing love, we wouldn’t work without you. You keep saying I’m intelligent and kind, but that’s you sweetheart. You’re reliable and stable, usually, in a way that none of us are. You are so damn funny and surprising. And brave. You started all this. Not Queen perhaps but _us_.”

“Thanks,” John muttered, cheeks rosy. “But I’m still not as pretty as Roger. Or as charismatic as Freddie.”

Brian hummed. “Do you want to be?” His fingers tapped lightly over John’s lower back. “I’d hate it if I looked like Rog, it seems like a hassle, honestly, all that attention. And Fred,” His voice went soft and sad and John snuggled closer into his embrace. “Most of that charisma and outrageous extravagance, that’s not really him. You know that. It’s a show he’s perfected over the years to keep the real him safe.”

“I know, I know…” John sighed, feeling stupid now that his anger was starting to subside. “I don’t want to be like them, not really. It’s just… Sometimes they make me feel bad about myself. But it’s not their fault, it’s only my own.”

Brian groaned. “Please never let them hear you say that, that would break them.”

“That’s why I’m telling you and not them.” John smiled and pulled lightly on one of Brian’s bouncing curls.

There was a sudden ruckus in the hallway and then the front door was kicked open.

“What the bloody hell are you doing, leaving us at that place?” Roger was livid, stumbling into the apartment, dragging a giggling Freddie in after him.

Brian winced at his volume, stepping back from John. “Shh Rog, it’s in the middle of the night.”

“DON’T YOU FUCKING HUSH ME!” Roger slammed the door shut behind them, Freddie draping himself over his side, half-heartedly glaring at Brian and John between snickers. “Fred’s fucking wasted, he has no SHIRT for fucks sake, it’s cold as balls outside and you couldn’t even tell us you were leaving?”

Well, John did feel a bit bad. A bit. His anger had rekindled at the sight of the two that had made him feel this lousy. Well mostly at Roger, he couldn’t really conjure much anger towards Freddie when his oldest boyfriend could barely stand on his feet. “Sorry, I wasn’t feeling well.”

“Bri!” Freddie grinned and waggled over to the guitarist, draping himself over him instead, probably finding him safer than Roger at the moment. Brian was frowning but gently wrapped his arm around Freddie when he snuggled into him.

Roger was staring at John, gaze softening a bit as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Well that sucks and all, but why didn’t you just say so? You just left us on the dance floor.” He was still angry, but John could now hear the note of hurt in his voice. Fucking ridiculous. Roger was hurt. Like he had any right to be. John was hurt, it was him who’d had a shitty night, who never was enough, who was ugly and uninteresting. What the fuck did bloody perfect, charming, beautiful Roger have to complain about?

“I had to practically wrestle Fred from the floor and outside. Do you even know how bloody hard it is to get a cab at this hour?”

John snarled and took a step forward. “Well you got here right after us so it can’t have been that hard.” He raised one eyebrow. “What did you do, stretch your pretty, bare leg out and bat your eyelashes at the driver?”

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” Roger’s voice was a low growl.

Freddie stared at them, grin frozen stiff on his face. Brian looked worried. “Guys…”

“It means that you look like a fucking,” _slut_. John managed to stop himself from finishing his sentence. He was left wide-eyed and gaping, shocked at what he’d been about to say. Why would he ever want to say that? Why was he so unreasonably furious with Roger, it didn’t make any sense. _You’re jealous. It’s not fair_.

“Calm down,” Brian raised his voice, “John, cut it out.”

Roger’s eyes were ice as he stared John down from across the room. “What? I look like what?” His jaw was set aggressively but John could hear the faint tremble of his voice.

God, he’d fucked up. He was such a stupid, egoistic prick. All fight left him, oozing out like the air from a pierced balloon. “Nothing, it’s…” His voice broke awkwardly and he lowered his gaze to the floor, not even managing to look at his fuming boyfriend. “I’m sorry.”

Maybe he should stop worrying about being charming and attractive and start with trying to be a decent human being and boyfriend. One who didn’t get jealous of his partners and insulted them for no other reason than wanting them to feel as bad as he did. Now when he thought about it, Roger and Freddie had tried to include him all evening. It was John who didn’t want to dance, John who went to dance and didn’t try to find them and John who’d pulled away from them and stormed off without telling them why. Then he’d lied to Brian and left Freddie and Roger, alone and drunk on the other side of town. He was the absolute worst.

_Your own insecurity and shitty self esteem are going to take everything away from you._

John’s cheeks were burning with shame and he was tearing up again. “I’m so sorry.”

“Darling,” slender fingers gently cupped his jaw and made him look up to meet Freddie’s kind eyes. “What in all the world is happening in there?” He lightly rapped his knuckles against John’s forehead.

John took a deep breath and tried his best to keep the tears at bay. “I didn’t have a good time tonight. I wanted to dance with you and have a good time, but I just couldn’t. Because I’m not like you. I’m not social like you, not charming or good-looking. No one knows who I am, no one cares who I am. And they shouldn’t, because I’m a fucking awful person and I’m so sorry for leaving you before.”

He dared a quick look around at the other three. Brian looked sad, shaking his head softly. Roger was still by the door, looking at John with an unreadable expression. Freddie was smiling, but it looked pained. Then the singer sighed deeply and unceremoniously headbutted John.

Pain explodes behind his eyelids and John stumbles backwards with a yelp, clutching his aching forehead.

“Fred!”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Brian’s and Roger’s voices were loud and suddenly very close as they rushed closer to stop whatever it was that was going on. John was now steadily leaking tears, too afraid to meet his oldest boyfriend’s eyes. God, Freddie hated violence, he must be really pissed with John.

“He was talking like a crazy person,” Freddie shrugged, “someone had to get him to stop.” John looked up, surprised, and saw that Freddie was smiling at him. The singer’s eyes had cleared somewhat, he seemed to be sobering up.

“I,” John frowned, not knowing what to say, still shocked. “But I’m…”

Freddie glared at him and put his hand over John’s mouth. “Hush. I don’t want to hear another word from you dear, not until you stop degrading yourself.” He removed his hand, nodded resolutely and then took John’s hand in his, his skin was a bit chilly as always but his grip was warm, and proceeded to pull the baffled bassist into the living room.

He was roughly pushed down on the sofa and Freddie climbed into his lap. John’s eyes were at the level of Freddie’s chest, and he couldn’t help but to let them travel over bare skin, the dark hair on Freddie’s chest and his pink, puckered nipples. “Freddie, I’m so sorry, I don’t deserve y…”

“Quiet!” Freddie glared at him again and pulled punishingly on John’s hair. “I don’t want to hear it.” He tutted and lifted his hand to try and rub off the smudged eyeliner from beneath John’s eyes. “I love you. We love you. And no one, not even you, is going to come away with saying bad things about you.”

John had to admit that he was impressed by Freddie’s eloquence, drunk and all, and the words warmed his stinging, fragile heart.

The singer continued on, still rubbing stubbornly on John’s stained skin. “I understand you’re sorry about tonight, it wasn’t nice leaving us like that, but it happens. Sometimes you have to put yourself first and if you were feeling bad and we were the reason, then I understand that you wanted to leave.”

“But I don’t,” Roger’s slumped himself down in the sofa, in the corner, not quite close enough for John to touch. “I don’t get what we did wrong, what we did to make you feel bad.” He sounded frustrated and John’s breath got stuck in his throat.

Brian appeared on his other side, a bag of frozen peas in hand. He kissed John’s forehead and pressed the bag against his still tender skull. “Sometimes it’s not that easy Rog.”

“You didn’t do anything,” John said quietly, and it was the truth. He knew that now, he’d known it all along. The only enemy tonight had been himself. “It was all me. I compare, compared, myself to you and Freddie and got depressed. I felt like I’m not worthy to be with you, any of you,” he added this to Brian, wanting to make sure that he knew that he was included in this as well, but the guitarist only smiled gently at him before leaning into his side, “And I still do. It’s a problem I always have, that I don’t feel good enough.”

Roger nodded slowly, still keeping in his corner. “Yeah. Well, I know that. And you know that we all think that’s bullshit.” Freddie nodded vigorously, resting his arms around John’s shoulders. Roger sighed deeply and rubbed at his eyes, smudging his makeup as well. “I just want to know how to fix it, how to make you believe us when we tell you that you are good enough, better even. And smart and funny and hot as fuck.” He looked dejected and John wanted to reach for him but knew better. If Roger was choosing not to cuddle with them he needed space.

“It’s not something you can fix just like that…” John wrapped his arms loosely around Freddie’s waist when the singer leant forward to rest his face in John’s neck. “It is getting better though, no really,” he emphasised when both Brian and Roger snorted, “it’s been getting better since I started hanging out with you, because you’re all lovely. But,” He ran his hands gently up Freddie’s back, wondering how on earth he could have been so angry with his precious boys, “I’ll still have bad moments, bad days sometimes. I’m sorry. I just don’t know how to stop it.”

Freddie hummed sadly against his skin and Brian pressed a kiss to his jaw, still keeping the blessedly chilled bag against his head. 

Roger let out an exasperated huff. “But why? Fuck John,” the blonde’s fingers were tapping impatient, harsh rhythms over his bare thighs. “You are great, like the best person I’ve ever met, together with those two,” he nodded towards Brian and Freddie. “You’re so relaxed, and cool. And funny and sexy.”

“Rog, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you calling me sexy is just like a falcon telling a chicken that it’s good at flying.”

Freddie started laughing at that, breath damp against John’s sensitive neck. “Silly Deaky, chickens can’t fly.”

“Exactly, that’s my point.”

Roger swore and the next second he was up in John’s face, eyes narrowed. “Are you telling me that what I think doesn’t matter? That I don’t have the right to think you’re sexy?” He leant in close, lips brushing over John’s as he spoke. “In that case, fuck you. You’re not a chicken, you’re a fucking swan.”

“I think it’s the duckling who becomes the swan Rog, not the chicken.” Brian supplied from John’s side, gingerly removing the bag of frozen peas from between John’s and Roger’s foreheads.

Freddie sat up suddenly, almost bashing his skull into Roger’s face, the drummer just barely managing to avoid the accident. “Falcons, ducks, chickens and swans.” He shook his head. “What are you boys on about.”

“I’m trying to give Deaky a pep talk here but you’re just ruining everything with bloody birds!” Roger complained, nose scrunched up.

John couldn’t handle this anymore. He tried to stop it, he really did, but the next second he was snickering. Then he was laughing. Then he was hollering, throwing his head back and clutching Freddie’s hips for support. Brian was chuckling too and Freddie was making ridiculous bird noises, squirming around on Deaky’s lap.

“Oh my god. I hate you so much.” Roger rolled his eyes, falling back against the corner of the couch. He was finally smiling though, and that removed the last pieces of emotional shrapnel from John’s heart. The cold, anxious pit that had been his stomach for the last three hours was now bubbling with butterflies and affection.  
Whatever his mind tried to tell him, his heart always knew where it belonged. Right here, laughing and cuddling with three gorgeous, silly men. This had been a rough night, there would probably be more, but for now, he was feeling at ease. Except for…

“Rog,” he started, removing one hand from Freddie to run it down Roger’s calf. “I’m sorry about before, for what I said.”

Roger smiled wryly at him, raising one eyebrow. “What, for almost calling me a hooker?”

Well…Close enough. “Yeah…” John winced, hand wrapping gently around the blonde’s ankle. “It was… out of line. I’m sorry. I was just so angry.”

“It was,” Brian agreed, petting John’s head as if he was proud of him.

“Still,” Freddie giggled, making a show of ogling Roger’s bare skin and smudged make up. “I do understand where angry darling Deaky was coming from.”

Roger stuck his tongue out at him and poked his foot into Freddie’s side, making the singer squeak. “Sod off, you look even worse. You don’t even have your bloody shirt, you buffoon.”

“I do not look worse!”

Before Freddie could make a big scene out of the whole thing John hushed and kissed him, just softly pressing their lips together. Freddie sighed happily and let himself be kissed, tugging eagerly at John’s hair as he grinded down against him. And wow, yep. There was certainly a hardon there. John chuckled affectionately against the singer’s lips and pulled him in closer against him.

“Wow Freddie,” Brian laughed, leaning in to kiss the singer’s neck. “Didn’t know you got off on this sort of talk.” He nibbled gently and sucked a bruise into the skin just above Freddie’s collarbone.

Roger snorted and then he was up against John’s side, hand brushing teasingly up his thigh. “Mm. Was probably all that bird talk.” John could feel him smirk against his skin as Roger trailed kisses up his bicep to his shoulder.

Freddie pulled back, glaring at the other two. Brian and then Roger let out yelps in quick succession as the singer pinched them. “Go suck a dick.”

“Whose?” Brian grinned, eyes wide and falsely innocent. “Seriously though,” he sat up from his slouch against John and looked hungrily at the younger man. “If poor Deaky won’t believe our words on the matter of him being brilliant, beautiful and the best, maybe we should show him instead.”

Freddie grinded down once against John’s awakening erection, warm brown eyes twinkling with mirth and excitement. “Always knew there was a reason you’re the smart one May.”

“Aw, flatterer.” Brian winked and leaned in to kiss Freddie, who happily reciprocated, tongue diving into the guitarist’s mouth.

John stared for a moment, just letting his budding arousal grow and settle, before Roger bit down on his throat, making him gasp.

“You’re so damn frustrating.” Roger growled against John’s fluttering pulse, before pulling him in for a rough kiss. The younger man could only groan as Roger fucked his tongue into his mouth, his fingers curling over the outline of John’s hardening dick through his shorts.  
John fisted one hand in Roger’s hair and tugged hard, making the blonde bite down on his lip until it stung. “You’re so fucking sexy Deaks, I don’t get how you can’t see that,” Roger pulled away slightly, pupils blown with lust as he kneaded harder over John’s cock.

“Oh god, fuck…” John gasped, forehead falling forward to land on Freddie’s chest. The singer whined into Brian’s mouth as John started pinching and twisting one of his nipples.

Brian swore somewhere above him and suddenly he was pulled up by the hair and kissed again, this time by Brian. He grunted and pressed hard against the other man, triumphant when Brian submitted and let him control the kiss. Beneath him, Roger was mouthing over Freddie’s chest, sucking and nibbling on one of his nipples until the singer arched and bucked in John’s lap, catching Roger’s hand between their crotches.

The drummer pulled away from Freddie, after having left a blooming bruise on his breastbone, and started tugging impatiently at John’s tank top. Brian and John were forced to break their kiss as Roger yanked the garment over John’s hair, messing it up thoroughly in the process. “Jesus Rog,” John panted, hands tight on Freddie’s hips as the singer continued to grind down against him.

“I want to fuck you,” Roger rasped out, throwing John’s shirt to the side.

John moaned at that, closing his eyes for a brief moment. He usually preferred giving over receiving but after tonight, a cock pounding him and forcing him to remember where he belonged sounded tempting. “Yeah alright,” He breathed and Brian whimpered into his ear, where he’d been busy nibbling on the lobe.

“But I want Deaky to fuck me,” Freddie whined, hands traveling down John’s torso to brush over his happy trail. “God, you looked so good on the dance floor darling, before me and Rog interrupted. Haven’t stopped thinking about you fucking me since.” He groaned, eyes dark.

Well, pounding into Freddie, making him scream, sounded tempting as well. John grinned manically, why chose? “Okay, we’ll try it, Roger in me and me in Fred.” He twisted his body to reach for Brian, fingers running gently over the guitarist’s beautiful jaw. “What about you babe? What do you want?”

How was he going to make this work with Brian too? Foursomes were always a lot of work, even if they’d all had much practice by now. Maybe Brian could fuck Roger at the same time? John glanced over at the drummer who was practically vibrating with energy, fists clenched in his lap and eyes burning. Yeah no… That was probably not going to happen.

“I… I’m happy with just watching for now,” Brian looked excited at the prospect, eyes glittering. “Sir.” God, he was a sweetheart. John sighed happily and placed a soft kiss on the taller man’s swollen lips.

He smiled warmly and stroked Brian’s unruly mop of curls. “Such a good boy for me as always.” Brian shuddered at his words, but met his smile shyly.

John loved the rush he got from being dominant. While he rarely felt like he was in control in his everyday life, since he was the most relaxed and easygoing of the four, things were completely different in the bedroom. He loved to get to decide, to order, to be the one still in control while the others became drooling, whimpering messes. Brian was almost always submissive to him, and that made him feel so powerful. Well, Brian was usually submissive to Freddie, and to some extent Roger as well, but the others didn’t have the same set dynamic him and Brian had. They didn’t do it always, only when one or both of them were in that mood, but tonight Brian seemed to have picked up on that John needed the comfort. That such a gorgeous, intelligent but stubborn person trusted him with his pleasure, really made John feel great about himself. Getting to express his dominance in some way felt like it was helping with battling his insecurities. John was so grateful for Brian’s trust in him.

Unfortunately, Freddie and Roger weren’t as quick to submit and let him take care of things as Brian was. Sometimes John fantasized about it, having them all three on their knees for him, obeying his every word and whim. That would probably stay a dream. Freddie was almost as fond of being in control as he was. The singer was actually acting unusually submissive tonight, probably because of the alcohol. Roger had his submissive moments, and they were happening more and more often as they all got used to each other and the relationship, but tonight he didn’t seem to be in that mood at all.

“Mm, I have an idea?” Brian started, licking his lips and then adding a quick “sir” when John frowned at him. “If I scoot back,” he scooted back to his end of the couch and spread his legs, back to the armrest, “you can lie against me, on your back, sir. Freddie can ride you and Rog can fuck you?”

Freddie nodded eagerly, climbing off John’s lap to start tugging him over to Brian. “A great idea sweetheart!”

“Filled to the brim with genius ideas, aren’t you love?” John grinned at Brian, letting Freddie pull him over and push him down on his back. He ended up with his head resting quite comfortably against Brian’s stomach but could feel the older man’s erection dig into his neck, which was a bit less comfortable. Freddie was on his way to straddle John again but was held back by Roger.

“Wait Fred,” Roger slapped him on the ass making Freddie’s eyes widen. “You need to get your shorts off baby, both yours and John’s.” He proceeded to open and tug John’s shorts off, no underwear as often was the case when Freddie was in charge of the outfit. John hissed when the material got caught on his sensitive cock but helpfully lifted his hips to make it easier for Roger. The drummer winked at him, one hand back on Freddie’s ass, groping him and complicating things for the poor singer who was trying to wriggle his way out from his tight leather shorts.

John looked on, one hand lazily wrapped around his cock, as Roger kneeled on the sofa and pulled Freddie close, pressing teasing kisses over his flat stomach as he helped peeling the tight material down over slim thighs.

“Bloody things,” Roger muttered when he finally managed to wrestle the shorts from Freddie’s ankles. He paused to suck just the head of Freddie’s jutting cock into his mouth, making the older man whimper in need and clutch at Roger’s shoulders, before patting him on the ass and sitting back. “Be right back,” he smiled, rising up and walking out of the living room.

Freddie was left staring longingly on John’s cock, and Brian was stroking his hair and shoulders lovingly. John felt very appreciated, and even though he still couldn’t understand why his boys wanted him, it was obvious, even to him, that they did. And he guessed that was what really mattered in the end. “Come on babe,” he took Freddie’s hand and pulled on it. “Sit down.”

His boyfriend eagerly complied and soon John had a naked Freddie kneeling over him, his flushed, hard cock dripping precum onto John’s stomach. Freddie leant over to kiss Brian and John groaned at his view, pink tongues and swollen lips meeting right over his face. Brian’s hips jerked slightly against John’s neck and he grinned, stroking one hand up and down the guitarist’s long thigh.

“That’s hot,” Roger was back again, bottle of lube in hand. He sat down at John’s feet and grabbed his thigh, urging it up against the back of the sofa. “Will be easier for me to reach,” he said to John’s confused noise. “Fred?” The blonde poked at the older man’s back, making him huff and swat at his hand, completely engrossed with kissing the breath out of Brian. “You want to prepare yourself?”

Freddie pulled away, leaving Brian a panting mess and bent down, supporting himself with his hands on Brian’s thighs. “No, I want you to do it,” he breathed over John’s lips. “Love your fingers in me.”

John groaned at that and licked over Freddie’s bottom lip. He wanted to feel Roger’s fingers in him as well. And soon. It felt weird laying with his legs spread wide, exposed and with Freddie perched on top of him and Brian behind him. Weird, but warm and safe. He felt cared for.

Roger must have heard his unspoken wish. A wet finger started circling his entrance and John grabbed the back of Freddie’s head, pulling him further down to lick into his mouth. He focused on making the singer’s breath hitch, on making him squirm against him, trying to relax as Roger slowly pushed one finger inside him.

Freddie whimpered into his mouth and Brian whined, cloth-covered cock rubbing against John. And then John understood that maybe he wasn’t the one who was making Freddie squirm after all. He let go off his oldest boyfriend’s lips and glanced down between his thighs. Yes, there was Roger’s hand, obviously fucking into the whining singer with more fingers than the one he was curling within John.

Holy fuck, he was using both hands, preparing Freddie and John at the same time. “Fucking hell Rog,” he stuttered, wishing he could see his third boyfriend, but his vision was filled with Freddie’s desperate face. Which wasn’t too bad either.

“Did… uh,” Freddie shakily moved back on Roger’s fingers, and fell down to rest his forehead on Brian’s thigh. “Didn’t know you could do that B…Blondie.”

The finger in John gently rotated and twisted, while a second one pressed teasingly against his rim. It felt good. He guessed he’d must have gotten Roger’s dominant hand, which was thoughtful of the blonde, since he wasn’t as adept at taking fingers as Freddie, or Roger himself, was.

Since Freddie had half collapsed John could now see Roger behind him. The drummer looked focused and John could see the muscles of his arms flex as he thrust hard into Freddie and softer into John. “I’m good at coordination,” he licked his lips and worked a second finger inside John.

“Fuck yes you are darling,” Freddie panted, letting out a broken moan when Roger nudged at his prostate.

John was starting to feel slightly overwhelmed, but through the pleasurable haze of Freddie’s warm body against him, Roger’s fingers in him and Brian’s hands lightly stroking over his arms and sides, he realized that Brian and Roger were still fully dressed, while him and Freddie were buck naked, except for their arm bands, still wrapped around their arms.

“Bri, take off your shirt,” he grunted out, biting his lip as Roger stroked gentle circles around his prostate. Then there was pressure, right there, and John whimpered, warmth and tension spreading all through his body from that spot. Roger continued to tease, lightly stroking until John felt like his blood was boiling, itching pleasure filling him up and threatening to drown him.

Brian had managed to crawl out of his shirt, and was letting out soothing noises as he stroked John’s face and Freddie’s back. The singer was moaning as Roger pounded hard into him with three fingers, hitting his prostate until Freddie sobbed helplessly.  
John took a shaky breath and met Roger’s eyes again, not surprised at all by the smirk on his pretty face. “Rog,” he tried to keep his voice steady, “you too babe. Want to see you, you’re so fucking beautiful naked.”

Brian whined his agreement, glaring at Roger’s clothes as if they’d wronged him.

“Hmm…” Roger tilted his head, fingers spreading and scissoring in John, opening him up for another. “Nah. My hands are busy.” He winked, pressing a third finger into John and a fourth one into Freddie, who was whining loudly and almost violently rocking back on his hand.

“Roger!” It was challenging using an authoritative voice when he was trembling with pleasure. “I want to see…”

“Too bad,” Roger interrupted, stilling his fingers deep within John and Freddie. “That’s what you get for insulting me earlier.” He grinded up against their prostates again, making both of them buck their hips and groan. “I want to focus on you baby, on making you feel good, on showing you that we love you.” He gently pulled out his fingers, leaning down to to press a kiss to Freddie’s trembling tail bone. “You can look at me another time.”

John felt his cheeks heat up and he turned to hide his face in Freddie’s neck. “Okay,” he muttered, “I’ll look another time.”

“Oh my fucking god, can we get on with it please?” Freddie ground out between clenched teeth, sitting up shakily on his knees again. “You’re a fucking tease and I’m going to make you sorry someday.” Freddie glared over his shoulder at Roger.

Roger just smiled widely and gave his ass another sharp smack. “Ah, you always say that love.”

“Dea…sir?” Brian’s voice was rough and John looked up at him, fingers lacing with Brian’s on top of his arm.

“Yes sweetheart? Did you enjoy watching us?”

Brian shifted and John could feel how hard he was through his trousers. “I did, it was bloody hot and I want to touch myself, please sir, can I change position so I can touch myself?” The guitarist sounded desperate, lips shuddering open on pants as he stared down at John beggingly.

“I have a better idea,” Roger said, lubing up John’s aching cock. “Why don’t you fuck Fred’s mouth? You can stand on the side of the sofa, he should be able to reach if John sit up a bit and you both lean in.”

“Fuck you,” Freddie groaned, positioning himself right on top of John’s cock, taking hold of the base of it when Roger pulled away. “Who the fuck made you boss? I’m the master of the bedroom!” He whined and slowly started to lower himself. “But please Bri dear, do fuck my mouth.”

John hissed, hands flying to Freddie’s hips to help him sink down on his cock. The pressure was heavenly, he loved the feeling of burying himself in one of his boyfriend’s hot, smooth tightness. It was so good that he almost forgot that he was annoyed with Roger, and Freddie, for challenging his authority over Brian like this.

“Well, I don’t care who’s the master of what now, more than that John is mine, and he’s the one in charge, not you.” Brian was irritated too, glaring first at Freddie, who pouted and then at Roger, who held his hands up in surrender. “Sir?” Brian looked down at John, eyebrows raised.

John almost wanted to cry at his sweet, sweet Brian standing up for him, and calling him master too, for the first time. He loved him so much. “You’re so good Bri, the absolute best anyone could ask for,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “But master do want you to fuck Freddie’s mouth. Maybe we can finally shut him up.”

Brian blushed fiercely at “master”, he’d probably said it in the heat of the moment and now he was embarrassed. John grinned at him. Then Freddie swore and grinded down hard on John’s cock, ass flush to John’s hips.

“No appreciation!” The singer lifted his hips and dropped them again, making John moan, fingers pressing white marks into his boyfriend’s skin. “No love!”

Brian managed to squeeze out from behind John and the bassist did his best to scoot up against the armrest of the sofa, while keeping his leg curled over the backrest and with a bouncing Freddie in his lap. It was an impressive feat.

“Fred, you know we love and appreciate you very much,” Roger hummed and leant forward to nuzzle into the singer’s neck. He’d slid his cock out from his shorts and was lubed up and ready. John whimpered when Roger moved up the last bit and pressed the head of his cock against his opening.

Freddie’s breathing was laboured as he rocked up and down on John’s cock. “You’re a teasing bitch,” he moaned, turning his head back to kiss Roger’s cheek. “You’re lucky you’re pretty.”

“Oi,” John gasped out, “How’s this supposed to make me feel good and loved if you two are only fighting all the time?”

Roger pouted at him and then gripped his leg that wasn’t hanging over the back of the sofa and propped it over his shoulder. “You’re going to feel so good and loved you won’t even know what to do with yourself.” He brushed the skin of John’s calf with his lips and slowly started to push inside.

John bit at his lip and winced, the first stretch was always painful. Even if he was well lubed and prepared his muscles clenched down on the intrusion. Freddie stroked his cheek and rolled gently on his cock. “Just breathe darling, let him in.”

That was easier said than done, but John tried and Roger took it slowly, carefully sliding in a bit, then out, then in a bit further, until he was all the way inside, chest pressed up against Freddie’s back. “So good John, so pretty and generous, letting us have you like this.” Roger’s voice was low and raspy and it sent pleasurable sparks up John’s spine.

“God yes,” Brian had removed his pants and boxers and stood naked and touching himself next to them, looking down at the other three blissfully. “You’re all so beautiful. Look so good.” He groaned, long fingers pumping his cok.

“Love you so much darling,” Freddie whimpered, shakily continuing to ride John’s cock. “You fill me up so good, feels amazing.”

John opened his mouth to try to say something but instead only moaned loudly when Roger slowly pulled back and Freddie clenched down and brushed his thumbs over John’s nipples. The singer’s eyes were teary, and he trembled in exhaustion as he lifted himself up and down. John remembered that he’d been dancing all evening and was drunk, it must be hard work riding John’s dick on top of it all. Roger also noticed, he placed both hands on Freddie’s hips and helped him move up and down, continuing the slow rolls of his hips into John. “Tired love?” He breathed into Freddie’s ear, receiving a shaky sigh and nod in response.

Brian whined and John glanced up at him, hand reaching out to stroke his arm. “Come on babe, you need to come in Freddie’s mouth before he passes out on top of me.”

“That alright Fred?” Brian leant down to kiss Freddie’s lightly, smiling when the singer nodded eagerly and licked his lips.

Roger chuckled, starting to move faster into John and making him gasp. It didn’t hurt much anymore, it was starting to feel good. He didn’t know how long he’d be able to stand being wrapped tight inside Freddie and have Roger fuck him. And he could do nothing but to just lie there and feel it all. It was overwhelming and a bit scary, but it felt great. 

“Come on then,” he panted out, reaching up to put his hand on top of Roger’s, trying to help steady Freddie. “Bri, stand behind me, Fred, you’ll have to lean forward, put your hands on my shoulders?”

Both Brian and Freddie complied immediately, sending a hot, tingling rush through John’s body. Roger grinned at him knowingly and picked up his pace, brushing over John’s prostate and making him swear and dig his nails into Roger’s hand.

Freddie took a deep breath, doing his best to keep moving his hips while steadying himself on John’s shoulders, staring hungrily at Brian’s cock in front of his face. “Do your worst darling,” he winked at Brian, eyes just somehow made more intense and gorgeous by the messy eyeliner, and opened his mouth.

“Fred, oh my god,” Brian whimpered, cradling the singer’s jaw with one hand and holding his weeping cock with the other. “Sir?”

John choked on a moan as Roger thrust into his prostate again, his hips tried to buck but they were trapped between Freddie’s and Roger’s bodies and he just ended up shaking all over. “Do it,” he managed to pant out.

Looking up and seeing Brian’s long, slightly curved cock disappear between Freddie’s red lips inches above his face, was one of the most erotic things John had ever seen. 

“Bloody hell,” Roger moaned, hips stuttering a bit in their smooth movements. He was still holding Freddie’s hips, moving him on John. Freddie whimpered helplessly around Brian when John’s cock hit him at an especially good angle and Brian echoed it with a broken cry.

John was so, so lucky. This unearthly hot fever dream was his life. Fuck, he loved them so much. “You… ah god I love you.” He gasped out, reaching one hand down to clumsily paw at Freddie’s leaking cock.

“Love you,” Brian moaned, pushing his cock further and further inside Freddie’s mouth with every roll of his hips, holding his head still with the grip on his jaw.

Freddie sobbed and did his best to suck on Brian, fingers tight on John’s shoulder. “Aah woo uu,”

“So good Fred, take him all the way baby.” Roger’s voice was gravel and John, Freddie and Brian all whimpered in unison. “So gorgeous all of you, can’t believe you’re all mine.” 

Roger’s hips were snapping rougher into John, making his breath hitch on every thrust in, his prostate being teased but not stimulated directly. Which was lucky, with Freddie deliciously clenching around him one straight hit to his prostate would be enough to bring him over the edge.

Brian was panting hard, fucking into Freddie’s throat, making the singer choke around him as he went harder and faster. “S..sir… Please?” Brian whined, one hand reaching down to stroke John’s chest. “Need to come so bad..”

“Mmmrffh!” Freddie garbled, cock twitching sporadically in John’s hand, wetting his fingers.

John was dizzy, head pleasantly empty except for the pleasurable sensations rocking his body, the ache of his thighs being spread out for too long and the heavenly symphony of skin slapping against skin and his boyfriend’s voices. His balls were tight and heavy and his cock was practically vibrating with the need for release. “G..go on babe,” he grunted, thumb rubbing roughly at Freddie’s leaking head. “Come in his mouth, let’s fill him up from both ends yeah?”

Freddie whimpered and tightened around John until it almost hurt, body shaking like a leaf.

Brian hissed and John saw how he shoved all the way into Freddie’s throat, once, twice before moaning brokenly and throwing his head back. Freddie did his best to swallow, but he was whining too hard, mouth pulling off Brian’s cock to gasp for breath, spilling some of Brian’s come onto John’s cheek.

“Ah aah Dea… Rrroo fuck,” Freddie was moaning out nonsense, tears running down his cheeks. 

Roger swore, John felt him move his hand from Freddie’s hip and the next second it came down hard on Freddie’s buttock, making him squeal and arch. “Come on baby, come for us,” Roger growled, hand slapping Freddie a second time.

That was all it took, Freddie wailed and his cock jerked in John’s hand, warm come running over his fingers and down on his stomach. His ass spasmed around John who bit his lip, desperately trying to arch his hips up into the tight heat. 

Freddie collapsed on top of John, panting wetly into his neck. Brian was breathing deeply above him, hands running through John’s hair and down his arms. Roger’s hips jerked erratically into John, and the bassist hazily looked up at him when he heard him call his name softly.

“John,” Roger breathed again, gaze beautifully and unfathomably soft and powerful at the same time. “You’re ours. We love you.” He closed his eyes, breath catching in his throat as he grinded gently into John’s prostate. “ _Please_. Believe us.” 

There were tears in John’s eyes as he came, Freddie still clenching around him and Roger thrusting deep. He sobbed through his orgasm, clutching Freddie tightly in his arms, body shaking with pleasure and overwhelming emotion.

Brian’s soft voice told him how amazing and beautiful he was, as Freddie’s breathing slowed against his skin and Roger groaned through his own orgasm, filling John before carefully pulling out and letting his legs down from their high perch.

John laid there for awhile, hugging Freddie, body and mind blanked out. Somewhere close to him Brian and Roger were talking quietly. He gazed up dazedly and saw Roger in Brian’s arms, the guitarist’s arms low around his waist and the blonde gently cupping the older man’s face. They kissed lazily and John slowly started to breathe again, running his trembling fingers through Freddie’s messy hair.

He dozed, not giving a thought to the sweat and come sticking between him and his passed out, gorgeous boyfriend. Like in a haze, he noticed Freddie being lifted from him, Brian helping to maneuver the sleeping singer onto Roger’s back. After that, strong arms scooped him up from the sofa, and he was carried, hanging over Brian’s shoulder, into the bedroom.

Suddenly he was on his back on their fancy, fluffy mattress, Freddie curled up against his side. A warm, wet towel was being rubbed gently over his skin and he heard Roger’s and Brian’s hushed whispers and chuckles as both him and Freddie were cleaned off.

“Good night beautiful,” Brian whispered, a soft kiss pressed against his cheek.

“Our pretty, flying chicken.” Roger’s lips brushed his forehead.

Freddie let out a content sigh, face pressed to John’s neck. 

John smiled and let sleep take him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You got some wrecked Freddie and a tiny bit of spanking after all, what can I say, I live to please. I hope you enjoyed this, it was really interesting to write. But by god. Foursome sex scenes are so bloody hard. I might or might have not crawled all over my own sofa to try to make sure that all positions would work out xD
> 
> I'm not completely done with insecure!Deaky yet. I have one more story I want to do on the subject. It will deal with both Deaky's and Roger's often problematic roles in the band, and will handle Deaky being neglected/forgotten and Roger being objectified. It will get dark, darker than what I've done in this series this far, and I'm very excited to write it. But that will come later. 
> 
> First up will be a little thing called A study in Firsts, where I'll go through some of the boys sexual history preFour. After that I'll try to do a second chapter to King of the sleaze, with some rough Freddie stuff.
> 
> So I hope you look forward to much more from me, cause I just can't seem to tire of writing these babes xD 
> 
> You're the best lovelies, please let me know your thoughs and have a lovely day/night <3


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